


sacrifices

by chanhee (we_the_boyz)



Category: The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Canon Compliant, Denial of Feelings, Hand Jobs, M/M, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-02-23 05:26:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23239651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/we_the_boyz/pseuds/chanhee
Summary: A feeling akin to irritation starts to bubble up in Chanhee’s chest but he pushes it down with a sigh, deciding it’s way too early to get worked up over Younghoon barging into his room and making himself comfortable in his bed. He closes his eyes and wishes for his body to fall back into a deep sleep until the older realizes that the two of them simply don’t fit in his bed and decides to leave.Except he doesn’t, and he won’t, because the two of them know exactly why Younghoon is here for.
Relationships: Choi Chanhee | New/Kim Younghoon
Comments: 11
Kudos: 202
Collections: BBBFest Debut Round: The Bittersweet Option





	sacrifices

**Author's Note:**

> Posted for BBB fic fest. Title from "Sacrifices" by Tinashe.
> 
> As always, thank u Nina for being my beta. <3

Among other mundane pleasures, in this current period of his life Chanhee finds being able to sleep in late a luxury.

When he’d signed up to become an idol, he’d been well aware of the endless amount of self-sacrifices that he’d have to make in order to perform well and to meet the ridiculously high expectations of the people around him. Sacrificing his precious sleep, unfortunately, was one of them, and no matter how hard he tried to get used to the irregular sleep schedules that the chaotic idol lifestyle brought, he just... couldn’t. He couldn’t understand people like Kevin either, who’d wake up at six on the dot and would have taken a shower, made breakfast, worked out and cleaned the house by seven. He’d always been a bit of a sloth, choosing to stay in bed and soak in in every single minute of sleep and alone time that he could until another member eventually came and pulled the covers off of him, yelling at him about schedules and a bunch of other things that would go in one ear and out the other in his newly awakened state.

So, when he is woken up by the sound of the door to his room slowly creaking open and faint footsteps shuffling subsequently, Chanhee sighs in annoyance and spares a pointed glance at whoever dared to interrupt his treasured beauty sleep. A tall figure stands in the darkness, skin pale and hair the color of ash, and Chanhee can’t help but roll his eyes.

The bed dips with the weight of Younghoon climbing up the bunk’s ladder, making a horrible squeaking sound that would sound threatening to anyone with a sane mind. Obviously, Younghoon isn’t bothered by it. Chanhee turns away from the intrusor to face the wall, whining out a weak, sleep-ridden “leave me alone.”

Ignoring Chanhee’s feeble pleas, Younghoon not-so-gently urges him to make room by forcibly pushing his body against the wall. Despite Chanhee’s attempts to make himself as much of a dead weight as possible, Younghoon manages to make enough room to scoot beside him and lie down, albeit uncomfortably.

“It’s packed in here,” the older murmurs to himself while he gets settled underneath the blankets, with the obvious intent to gauge a reaction out of Chanhee.

A feeling akin to irritation starts to bubble up in Chanhee’s chest but he pushes it down with a sigh, deciding it’s way too early to get worked up over Younghoon barging into his room and making himself comfortable in his bed. He closes his eyes and wishes for his body to fall back into a deep sleep until the older realizes that the two of them simply don’t fit in his bed and decides to leave.

Except he doesn’t, and he won’t, because the two of them know exactly why Younghoon is here for.

It was evident that the relationship that the two of them had developed over the past few years was determinedly turning more and more physical with time. What started off as innocent hugs and hands on waists in public turned into intimate caresses when no one was around which, in turn, developed into heated messes of mouths and limbs and the occasional hand down pants and… you get the idea. It was getting dangerous, the way they sought out every minute of free time that they possibly could to sneak around to a secluded dorm room, a shower, a hotel room, an empty practice room; any place where it was just the two of them and their desperate need to get off. Like now. They didn’t ask questions and barely allowed themselves to speak of the events when they came down from their highs, and it seemed to work out fine for them so far. It was definitely not Chanhee’s ideal type of relationship, but it granted some type of stress relief, at least, allowing him to touch and be touched in return.

Chanhee breaks the silence after a minute, still facing away from Younghoon, their backs pressed against each other: “Where’s Eric?”

“Outside. In the living room,” Younghoon answers almost immediately, like he was waiting for it, voice slightly too loud in the quiet of the room. Chanhee almost laughs because it’s so obvious, the way Younghoon saw the opportunity and took it. He doesn’t even ask if he locked the door when he came in because the answer would be painfully predictable.

It goes quiet between them again. Despite his initial annoyance, product of his precious sleep being interrupted, Chanhee isn’t necessarily against the idea of messing around with Younghoon this early, when it’s still quiet and peaceful in their home and they don’t have to worry about making too much noise, or worse, having the others walk in on them. In fact, he isn’t against the idea at all. Chanhee finally turns around to face Younghoon’s broad back. He scoots closer, as much as the small space allows him to, hooks his chin over the older’s shoulder and presses his legs to his’ in a spooning position, throwing his left arm over his body and letting it rest over his stomach.

He hears Younghoon suck in a breath through his nose and it’s almost comical, the way the two of them are able to get so worked up over an innocent back hug. Chanhee shifts so that he can press his plush lips to the base of Younghoon’s neck, nose coming in contact with the fine hairs at the back of his neck, his smell intoxicating and almost too strong. In turn, the older grabs the bony hand resting over his stomach and slides it underneath his shirt in complete and utter silence.

The atmosphere between them suddenly becomes heavy as Chanhee’s fingertips come in contact with the skin on Younghoon’s abdomen, warmed by sleep and soft as silk. As his fingers dance over the skin in mindless patterns, the muscles jump underneath his touch. Chanhee presses a shaky palm flat over Younghoon’s stomach and the older leans back against Chanhee’s chest, letting a small sigh escape from his lips. A hand comes up to grab his own again, and this time it guides him down, down, down all the way to Younghoon’s crotch and between his legs.

With a wavering breath, as if he was bracing himself, Chanhee palms at Younghoon’s sweatpants until he feels the outline of his dick, laying limp against the top of the older’s thigh. He’s not even half-hard yet, but he’s definitely getting there. Younghoon shifts when he feels the friction, swallowing so hard Chanhee is able to hear it.

“You like this?” Chanhee whispers against the tender skin of Younghoon’s neck, and it’s not a question as much as it is an affirmation. The older nods his head weakly, and Chanhee is in awe at the state that he’s in, so submissive and completely at disposition of the younger’s actions. When they do this, Chanhee is usually the one to take on a more passive role, simply because he’s too lazy to put in the amount of work necessary to take full control over the other and most of the time he just enjoys the feeling of being taken care of, but he’s been finding it quite fun, reducing Younghoon to this state with nothing but his caress. He pushes himself up with his elbow until his smaller frame is barely hovering over the older, staring down at him. His side profile looks beautiful like this, eyes closed and brows slightly furrowed, lips pressed in a tight line. Chanhee continues working his hand over the outline of Younghoon’s dick, feeling it rapidly hardening beneath his touch. Guided by an unknown force, he leans down to press a kiss on the older’s cheek, and the intimateness of the action surprisingly turns him on even more.

Chanhee knows it’s stupid, what they’re doing. He’s always been one for common sense, keeping his guard up, having a level-headed attitude, and turning his nose up towards those who let trivial matters like romance or relationships get in the way of their goals and ambitions. Playing boyfriends with Younghoon the way they’ve been doing is a double-edged sword that will eventually come back to bite him in the ass, he is very well aware of that. But above everything else, he’s always had a self indulgent personality, and he simply cannot deny himself the pleasure of having such a good looking man as Younghoon underneath him, working him apart and having him come undone with his touch. He squeezes the base of the older’s cock through his sweatpants and lightly bites on his earlobe, watching with a feeling that could only be described as pride as he leaves goosebumps in their wake all over the skin of Younghoon’s pale neck.

“Come on,” the older pleads as he grabs Chanhee’s hand and rapidly pumps it along the length a couple of times, and there’s a hint of desperation in his voice that awakens something deep inside of the younger, an animalistic desire that makes him see red for a second. “Chanhee.”

As if a switch was flipped inside his brain, Chanhee’s jaw locks as he becomes conscious of the power dynamics in their current situation. For the first time in a long while, he feels like he’s in full control of his surroundings: no one to boss him around, no members to poke fun at him, no managers to tell him which heavily filtered selfie to upload to the group’s Twitter account. Just him and Younghoon in this ridiculously small bunk bed, hard and drunk on want. He feels like this side of him has been kept inside a cage and buried deep inside his subconscious for entirely too long. Driven by brute force, he forcefully shifts Younghoon’s position so that he’s laying on his back and dives inside the covers, wasting no time making his way down the older’s long body and hooking his fingers along the waist of his sweatpants and boxers, pulling them down in one swift move.

Younghoon’s cock springs free, heavy and red in front of Chanhee’s face. On a different day he would’ve taken his time with it, lightheartedly licking and nipping at the tip to make Younghoon hiss and pull at his hair in a playful manner, but he’s not up for it today. Today he wants to make the older beg, wants to make him cry out with want. When his mouth suddenly closes around the base, he hears Younghoon suck in a breath from his nose. He’s easy to handle, not the most doted of them all (neither of them are) so it gives Chanhee a lot of room to bend the older at his will with his mouth and his throat. He swallows prettily, feeling the weight of Younghoon’s cock on his tongue. When he purposefully stays in his place, unmoving, the older sneaks his hand underneath the covers and grips at his hair with a force that almost pulls the hair out of his scalp. It’s only then that Chanhee starts working his mouth, gathering spit under his tongue and lathering it all over the length at a dangerously slow speed, all while keeping an iron grip on Younghoon’s hips to prevent him from bucking up into his mouth.

He begins bobbing his head while the hand on this scalp pulls and tugs at his hair, urging him on silently. He feels like he should be bothered by the older’s insistence and impatience but, instead, he finds himself turned on by it. After all, he has Younghoon at the palm of his hand, he’s the one to decide when and how he gets off, and it gives him a thrill unlike any other he’s ever felt. He keeps messily bobbing his head until he has to pull off for air, replacing his mouth with his hand and pulling the covers back to check on the older.

Younghoon has his head thrown back, the expanse of his neck bared and pretty mouth slightly parted in a silent moan. Chanhee can’t see his eyes from this position but he imagines they’re shut tight, his ash-colored hair fanning over the pillow and forming a halo around his head, chest rising and falling with labored breaths. He thinks Younghoon looks gorgeous, and the word falls short on him. Chanhee yearns for the sound of his voice in this state, aches to hear him whine and beg the way Chanhee himself did when the roles were reversed. “How is it, hyung?” he asks with his hand still pumping over the length, and it comes out softer than he intended it to, dangerously bordering on sweet.

Younghoon’s head lolls to the side, eyes casted down to look at Chanhee. The expression painted across his rounded features is one of desire combined with desperation, lips caught between his teeth in a wordless plea, imploring Chanhee to go further, to give him more. He says as such, in a feeble voice: “I need you.”

The words echo around the room, too loud for its quietness, too big for its small size. Chanhee doesn’t allow himself to ponder over the double meaning of the sentence, too horny to care for any sentimental statements, and instead crawls up Younghoon’s body and firmly presses their lips together. The older’s hands are on him in an instant, roaming across his small build, squeezing at his thighs, gripping at his shoulders and tugging at the overgrown hair on the back of his head.

The sound of their heavy breathing and kissing gets alarmingly loud so Chanhee pulls back, leaving them to stare into each other’s eyes while they struggle to calm their breathing. Younghoon cups a big hand over his cheek. “Pretty,” he whispers, and the tenderness of it almost makes Chanhee recoil in discomfort. He dismisses the comment by reaching the hand that he’s not using to hold himself above Younghoon back down to his cock, giving it a few languid strokes, reminding him of who’s in charge. The older whimpers, taken aback, and Chanhee watches as his eyes flutter closed in pleasure.

Deciding that they need to move a step further before the others start getting suspicious of their absence, the younger crawls between Younghoon’s legs and cages him in with both arms, staring down at him hungrily. Younghoon’s arms snake around Chanhee’s body and his hands hold on to the fabric of his sleep shirt with a weak grip. Chanhee is intoxicated with the sight of the older like this, his big, strong body underneath Chanhee’s skinny frame, legs spread for him with his sweatpants halfway down his thighs while his cock lies pathetically hard against his clothed stomach. He imagines, for a second, what it would be like to fuck Younghoon like this, have him bite into his own hand to stifle his moans while Chanhee thrusted into him hard, having to be as quiet as possible while everyone else obliviously stood outside. Have Younghoon dig his nails into Chanhee’s back, head thrown back in pleasure, as he came hard inside of him. The thought has Chanhee shuddering above the older as a rush of adrenaline runs down his spine, and he masks it by leaning down and pressing a wet, open-mouthed kiss to Younghoon’s warm neck. Younghoon’s right hand comes up to grab a fistful of Chanhee’s black hair, keeping him in place as he nibbles at the older’s neck, careful as to not to leave any marks.

Chanhee’s hands roam down Younghoon’s overheated and too-clothed body, covering every inch of skin on his torso that he possibly can. They finally come down to desperately grab and knead at the skin on his exposed hips and ass until they reach his cock, and he begins jerking it at a quick pace, driven by the adrenaline coursing through his veins and the hot, sticky air between them. Younghoon hisses and bucks his hips up, urgently searching for the friction that Chanhee’s palm brings him. Chanhee is suddenly aware of his own hard-on, aching and heavy between his legs and, as he continues pumping Younghoon’s cock, he grinds his hips against the back of his thighs, burying himself between his legs.

Their lips meet in an open-mouthed kiss, and the way their tongues obscenely glide against each other has Chanhee pausing, worried he might come too soon. He pulls away from Younghoon’s warm body, the sudden coldness of the room hitting him and making his skin prickle with goosebumps, and pulls his cock out, pushing his pajama pants down along with his briefs. He helps Younghoon out of his pants in a rushed manner, struggling to fit their bodies in the small space of the top bunk.

“I want you to fuck me,” Younghoon breathes out as Chanhee is pressing their lengths together, clearly caught up in the heat of the moment. They’ve never gone that far, and he knows they can’t afford to. Not now, but one day. The promise of being inside of Younghoon someday has Chanhee weak at the knees, thighs trembling as he struggles to hold himself upright while he spits into his hand ungracefully.

“Yeah?” he asks teasingly, voice perhaps a bit too loud, while he pumps his own length, getting himself wet and ready.

“Yeah,” Younghoon parrots, voice trembling. His cock twitches in Chanhee’s hand. “I wanna ride you.”

“I’d love that, hyung,” the younger reassures him as he begins stroking them both at the same time. Younghoon had a liking for dirty talk, and he learned to thoroughly enjoy it as well, once he got past the initial crudeness of it. “You’d feel so good- fuck, you’d take me so well.”

Younghoon pulls Chanhee closer by the back of his neck, crushing their lips together while desperately bucking up into his hand. Chanhee responds by flicking his wrist at the tip the way he knew Younghoon liked. It quickly becomes a game of push and pull, the younger not quite giving up his dominant role but letting Younghoon take what he could, pushing his shirt up until it was hunched beneath his armpits and palming at his slender torso. In turn, he licked a strip from the older’s neck to his earlobe, pausing his hand to suck on it until Younghoon whined pathetically and bucked his hips up impossibly higher.

Their lips meet again in a wet kiss, and Chanhee relishes in the feeling of Younghoon’s nose against his cheek, breathing out hard exhales, trying his best to be a good boy and keep quiet. Their hips move in tandem as Chanhee’s hand works over them both, squeezing and tightening at all the right places, and the sensation of their lengths sliding together with slick ease is unlike anything they’ve ever felt while doing this before. Maybe it’s the dark, confined space, but Chanhee feels every single point of contact sparking with electricity, lighting them up and starting a fire that burns and consumes him on the inside. He’s going to come soon.

The poor bed rocks and creaks with the force of their movements and he knows they’re being awfully loud, but he can’t hear anything except for the ringing in his ears and Younghoon’s small, high moans, signaling that he too is nearing climax. He swallows them down hungrily, hand squeezing around them impossibly tighter. Despite everything, in the back of Chanhee’s brain there’s still an annoying little voice that hopes Changmin and Kevin are already up and not asleep in the room next door.

Chanhee scrambles to pull Younghoon’s shirt up so as not to stain it before he comes hard on his stomach, body stiffening for a few seconds while his hand tries to keep jerking them through it. The older follows soon after, replacing Chanhee’s hand with his own and squeezing his eyes shut while he works himself through his orgasm.

As soon as the post-orgasm adrenaline wears off, Chanhee feels the ache and the pull in his thigh muscles, and the inevitable regret starts to kick in. He flops down on his side next to Younghoon with a soft thud, struggling to catch his breath. They lie there for a few moments, chests rising and falling, until Younghoon turns his head to face him. “I’m all gross,” he says with a voice barely above a whisper, his usual playfulness returning back to his mannerisms.

The younger idly looks at the cum pooling on the dips of Younghoon’s stomach, and he thinks of the tissue box that Eric keeps in their dresser. But it’s so far away…

“There,” Chanhee points a weak hand in the direction of the white dresser below them. “Go grab the tissues,” he says while patting Younghoon’s arm a couple of times.

“You’re so inconsiderate,” Younghoon jokes, clearly back to his usual self. “You did this to me. Why should I…” and he lets his voice trail off, too tired to think of something clever to tease the younger with.

As they lie there in silence, Chanhee hooks his arm around Younghoon’s bicep, snuggling up to him and pressing his cheek against his shoulder and allowing himself to bask in the ephemeral intimacy of the moment. He thinks about how they’re gonna have to make the walk of shame to the bathroom and his stomach churns with the looming feeling of uncertainty. What if the others overheard? As if he was reading his thoughts, the older man turns his head and presses his lips against Chanhee’s ruffled black hair, and this time he tries not to shy away from the touch and the butterflies in his stomach.

Several minutes pass until Younghoon finally gets up and climbs down the ladder with little difficulty. Chanhee watches him with a blank expression as he cleans himself up by the dresser and puts his pants back on. “I’ll leave first,” he announces with a smile. As much as he pretended to be annoyed by it, sometimes Chanhee wished he had Younghoon’s ability to remain optimistic and relaxed at all times. The itch to ask questions about where they currently stood, as friends, teammates, whatever the hell they were, was still there and growing larger by the second. But that was their unspoken rule, no questions, so he just lied there in his bed as he watched Younghoon disappear behind the door of his room, fully clothed yet feeling naked, a stranger in his own skin.

When Chanhee dares to walk out and into the living room, it’s way past eleven. He’s cold, and there’s dried sweat sticking to his skin making him itch all over. He’s always thought the supposed post-climax afterglow was a complete and utter lie because he’s a mess each and every single time Younghoon is done with him. He thinks he definitely looks the part, hair sticking out into every direction and bloodshot eyes half-open. On his way to the bathroom, he runs into Hyunjae, who scowls at him disapprovingly yet says nothing. He wants to scowl back, bare his teeth and scream at him: _What are you looking at?_ but he can’t. Hyunjae probably didn’t mean it like that, anyway. He tightens his jaw as, once again, he sacrifices his feelings and bottles them down for the sake of other people. Perhaps the reason why he resented people who let love and relationships and desires get in the way of their hopes and ambitions was because he himself couldn’t afford to.

As he stands under the shower spray, Chanhee daydreams about his life back in Jeonju and absolutely does not think about Younghoon.

**Author's Note:**

> *blinks*


End file.
